


The Geek in the Closet

by Rochelle_Templer



Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: Early days in friendship, Fun with comic books, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 10:51:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11484846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rochelle_Templer/pseuds/Rochelle_Templer
Summary: A leisurely lunch with some comic books leads to some unexpected moments.





	The Geek in the Closet

**Author's Note:**

> This is an older fic that takes place somewhere within Season Five.

While sitting in his office, Doctor Lance Sweets discovered that he could afford to give himself something that he rarely allowed himself: a long lunch.

He had spent the previous ten days working almost non-stop for up to twelve hours a day while clearing his desk of numerous profiling assignments and dealing with emergency visits from his patients. During that time, he had made do with picking up a sandwich from the cafeteria downstairs and eating it at his desk as he worked.

But today the psychologist found himself with a very light workload for a change. By the time lunch rolled around, he had finished almost all of his assignments and had just two patients who he needed to see later that evening. Faced with so little to do, Sweets decided to take a two or three hour lunch break and leave the Hoover building for a while.

He drove over to the Royal Dinner and ordered a large lunch which he proceeded to savor slowly. He then decided to go for a walk to get some air after his meal.

 Along the way, Sweets noticed that a new comic book store had opened up nearby and on a whim he decided to go in. It had been a while since he had been to one. He often used to go during college as a way to unwind from the pressures of being the youngest grad student at many of the colleges he attended. After browsing for a few minutes, Sweets picked out a stack of comics that appealed to him and then walked back to his car. He drove back to the Hoover building, grabbed a large cup of coffee and settled onto the couch in his office so that he could read.

About a half hour later, Booth burst into Sweets’ office with his trademark lack of a warning. The psychologist jumped a little and dropped the comic he was currently reading to the floor.

“Hey Sweets, have you got that profile for me on those bank heists?” the agent bellowed as he strolled in. Booth had just finished his meal and planned on spending the rest of his lunch hour reading in his office.

“Um, yeah,” Sweets said, picking up the comic from the floor and sitting it onto the coffee table. He then jumped up and went to retrieve the report that he had written earlier.

“Interesting reading there, Sweets.”

The therapist turned to see that Booth had taken his spot on the couch. He was flipping through the stack of comics that was sitting nearby by. Sweets trudged back over with the file in hand and began to blush. As he slumped down onto the couch beside the agent, Sweets waited for the barrage of teasing that he knew was imminent.

But to Sweets’ surprise, Booth just continued to silently page through the comics that were laying there.

“You know I had a bunch of these when I was a kid,” Booth mused. “Jared was always trying to steal them out of my room, but I always managed to find where he put them. He was lousy at hiding things.”

Warmed by this unexpected response, Sweets decided to reciprocate.

“My dad used to take me to our local comics store once a month,” he said “He’d let me pick out ten comics and that would be it until the next month.”

“Really?” Booth said with a mischievous look in his eye. “And here I thought you spent your entire childhood reading psychology textbooks or something.”

“Well there was that,” Sweets smirked back. “But a guy needs a little variety now and then…I just never read my comics in the bathtub is all.”

“No, you just read them in your office instead,” Booth countered playfully.

Sweets snorted and looked back down at the stack that Booth was still perusing through.

“My dad never saw the point of it…reading comics,” the agent said quietly. “He thought it was just a waste of time. Pops never seemed to mind though. Maybe he was indulging me a little.”

Sweets was startled at how much Booth was sharing of himself and was encouraged to be more open as well.

“I think my dad was just shocked that I wanted to read them,” the psychologist offered. “I was pretty…studious as a child. I guess he enjoyed seeing me act like a kid once in a while.”

“Who was your favorite?” Booth asked as he finally looked up.

“What?”

“Who was your favorite character?” the agent inquired. “Superman, Wolverine, the Hulk, Aquaman…?”

“Dude, no one’s favorite comic character is Aquaman,” Sweets said scrunching up his eyebrows. “I mean come on: his super powers consisted of breathing underwater and talking to fish. Lame.”

“All right, so who was it then?” Booth said, rolling his eyes. Sweets was quiet for a few seconds before answering.

“Um…The Flash,” he finally mumbled. Booth blinked at the answer.

“Why him?” the agent wondered. “I figured on you being more of a Peter Parker/Spiderman kind of a guy.”

“Well Mary Jane was kind of cute, even if her name was a blatant drug reference,” Sweets smiled. Booth chuckled at that, and the psychologist fell back against the couch and began to stare off into space.

“I guess…I liked him because he could run so fast,” Sweets continued. “He was truly free…he could go anywhere in the world in a matter of seconds and no one could catch him.” Sweets began to twist his fingers about in his lap.

“I used to run track in junior high,” he said. “Sometimes I would imagine that I was the Flash, and I’d run faster and faster.”

“Did you run in high school too?” Booth asked. Sweets shook his head. “Why not?”

“I…uh…lost interest,” Sweets muttered. “My studies got pretty intense once I got to high school…But I still enjoyed reading the Flash once in a while when I wasn’t studying or listening to music. It was a great way to….”

_‘Escape…escape the jeering and taunting,’_ Sweets mind filled in.

“Unwind,” the psychologist ended up saying instead.

Booth watched him as he said this and sensed that Sweets was holding something back, but didn’t press the matter. He knew that Sweets was usually tight-lipped about his past, so he let it slide. Besides, he had a sneaking suspicion that both the comic reading and quitting track were ways to deal with bullying.

_‘I bet Sweets was picked on all through school…A scrawny kid like that sees me coming, a former jock and he’s thinking to himself: time for a little payback…’_

Booth winced inwardly at those words. He had said them to Brennan in a fit of pique around the time that he first met Sweets, and he regretted them now. Partially because he was sure that Sweets _was_ picked on a great deal for being small and thin as a teen.

_‘Picked on by guys like me,’_ he thought darkly.

But one thing that turned out to not be true at all was Sweets’ desire for revenge. In the months and years that followed, Booth learned that Sweets was one of the most generous people he had ever met. Thinking about Sweets’ potential childhood now, Booth wondered what inspired this quality in the psychologist.

“So what about you?” Sweets asked, startling Booth out of his reverie. The agent shook himself a little before answering.

“Batman,” Booth said. “I always wanted one of those utility belts.”

“Hmm interesting,” Sweets said taking a sip of his coffee. “An avenger and protector who solves crimes and rights wrongs…Not too surprising.”

“Hey, don’t get all shrinky on me,” Booth scowled. “It’s just a comic book.”

“Sorry,” Sweets smiled. “Couldn’t resist.” Booth began to straighten the stack of comics.

“So what inspired this fit of geekiness?” the agent asked, anxious to avoid letting things become too serious.

“I don’t know,” Sweets shrugged. “I guess…once in a while…it’s still fun to…to…”

“To what?”

“To imagine,” the therapist responded. “Imagine that you’re someone that you’re not in real life. Like a hero for example.”

Almost as soon as he said those words, Sweets’ demeanor changed from thoughtful to joking again.

“And I was able to get these wicked cool editions on sale since the store was running a promotion to celebrate its opening,” the psychologist added. He picked up his coffee mug and began to slowly drink while Booth continued to stare at the coffee table.

He was thinking back to the last time he done some serious comic book reading and he realized that it was right after he had come back to work after faking his death. Booth remembered how he longed to relax. Drinking some beer while reading comics appeared to be a perfect solution. As he read he was taken back to when things seemed as simple as the good guys chasing the bad guys…and he was one of the good guys.

“I’m sure that seems strange to someone like you,” Sweets suddenly said. “I mean you were an Army Ranger and now you’re an agent of the FBI. You’re already one of the good guys and a hero many times over.”

Booth glowered at him. To this day, it unnerved him at how Sweets seemed to get inside his head or at the very least sense his thoughts.

But his annoyance soon evaporated as another thought came to his mind when one of Sweets’ statements replayed in his head.

_‘Imagine that you’re someone that you’re not in real life. Like a hero for example.’_

_‘Is that what he thinks? That he’s nothing like those people who he reads about in the comics?’_ Booth wondered _._

_‘Probably because he’s had people teasing him…and worse…his_ _whole life.’_

_‘You’ll never amount to anything, Seeley…you’re nothing.’_

Booth shuddered at the unwelcome memory. His old man certainly knew how to make him feel like nothing. It was one of many reasons that he was grateful that he had been able to move in with his Pops.

Still, despite the love and support that he received from his grandfather, Booth grew up with doubts about himself. His work in the Army and then in the FBI was satisfying and it gave him a chance to prove that his father was wrong about him.

 Even so, he couldn’t deny the lingering darkness in his soul. Booth looked over at Sweets and wondered if his profession gave him the same affirmation that his own had.

And then he discovered that he didn’t want to think that that was the only affirmation that Sweets was getting in his life.

“You should know, Sweets,” Booth said. “You’re one of the good guys too. Maybe you’re not an agent, but your work makes it a hell of a lot easier for us to catch the bad guys.” Sweets shook his head and began to blush again, making Booth become even further emboldened.

“Besides, you look at a lot of these super hero types and one thing that most of them have in common is that they had to overcome a lot of obstacles including a difficult past,” Booth continued.

Sweets flinched at that, and Booth responded by putting his hand on the psychologist’s shoulder and staring into his eyes.

“I don’t know your past nor do I have to,” he said gently. “But I do know that you don’t let your past stop you from caring about others and from giving back to the world. And if that isn’t the definition of a hero, then I don’t know what is.”

Sweets sat there silently, and Booth was worried when he saw the therapist’s eyes glisten with moisture. But then the agent was relieved when a huge smile lit up Sweets’ face.

“Thank you, Booth,” he said, rubbing his eyes and regaining his composure. Booth flashed a grin back at him, but was eager to lighten the mood again.

“I’m kind of surprised you know so much about classic comic characters anyway,” the agent said. “I imagined that you were too busy watching Star Wars and ignoring girls while growing up.”

“Hey, you ever see Leia in that slave costume?” Sweets smirked. “She was hot. Although not as hot as Xena.”

“Xena?” Booth said, incredulous. “Come on…”

“No really, Booth,” Sweets insisted. “Smart, witty, sexy and able to kick any man’s butt…Sort of like Doctor Brennan, don’t you think?”

“Sweets…if you ever refer to my partner as a character from a fantasy TV show again, I’ll have to shoot you,” Booth said in a mock serious tone.

“I’m just saying…”Sweets said, holding up his hands.

“Well don’t,” Booth growled. He was hoping that would be the end of it, even though he heard faint chuckling from Sweets, who was reading a comic book again. But then he realized that he couldn’t get the image of Brennan as some kind of “warrior princess” out of his head.

_‘Great…I’ve been hanging around these squints for too long,’_ Booth thought to himself as he picked up a comic of his own to read.  

But as the rest of his lunch hour passed by, Booth wondered if that was such a bad thing after all.


End file.
